


mercy // g + m

by izsmoak



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:29:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izsmoak/pseuds/izsmoak
Summary: Glenn's a Savior.Maggie's an Alexandrian.They're at war.They fall in love.





	1. better

 

_**mercy chapter one.** _

 better

 

_ maggie greene  _

***

Leaning on the railing of the guard tower, I gazed down at the small field beyond the wall, letting the cool breeze blow my shoulder length brunette colored hair across my face without being bothered by it. The cattails in the grass below blew, too, keeping me in a trance, distracted from my surroundings.

  
I was thinking about Aiden and the stupid choices I'd made with him. Aiden, Deanna's last remaining son, had been my boyfriend for the majority of the time I'd been at Alexandria.  
It wasn't love. No, it was something a whole lot faker than that.  
I'd experienced something similar before, with a nice guy named Kyle, back at the prison. He didn't make it long, getting killed in a freak accident on a run.  
But, they were the same. For me, it was the exact opposite of the real thing that I craved. Maybe it was to fulfill our desires and needs, or was just for fun. We were both young and clueless of what to do in the apocalypse when you're looking for a partner, so we chose each other, pointlessly.

Aiden would show up at my bedroom door some nights wanting to sleep with me, and maybe sometimes it would be the other way around. Sometimes he was there for me when I needed him in drastic moments, and other times he would act like a reckless asshole in front of me. He really was a jerk, but he had his sweet spots.

Then, one day I found out that I let him get me pregnant. I was just staring at the floor, the white square tile was all I saw as I let the pregnancy test fall from my hand onto the floor.  
It was stupid, stupid, stupid. I never meant for anything to happen. We used protection, but it was true that condoms expire. I guess neither one of us really took that into consideration.

The worst part of it was when I told him. I finally made up my mind, after a lot of painful thinking, to do so.  
He came walking into my room at the house I shared with the rest of my group, collapsing on my bed and muttering something about how dumb it was that he had to cover extra watch.

"I'm pregnant," I blurted, sitting next to him on the bed.  
I remember how slowly he had moved, sitting up with his fists clenched.

It was stupid, all stupid.  
He should've been happy.  
Maybe not happy, but he shouldn't have been mad. He should've said something like, "we'll make the best of it, babe," or, "we'll do it together, Maggie," like he was supposed to. But, his reaction was just an addition to the reasons why I should've given up our relationship the moment it started.

"What? W--what the hell?" Aiden grumbled quietly, standing up and running his hands through his hair.  
"When the fuck did you find out?"

"A week ago. I--I was waiting for the right time to--"

"A week? The right time?" he snapped, throwing up his hand in a gesture of frustration.

"Yes, okay? Yes! You're always busy with some useless shit you tell me not to worry about, or risking the lives of yourself and others on runs. I... knew you would be this way when I told you!" I said, springing up and getting in his face with my words.  
His expression was now hard and angry.

"Be this way? How else am I supposed to be? We can't have a kid, Maggie. It's not happening. I--I... I don't know how I can..." Aiden sighed, seeming to tone his voice down a bit.  
He turned and started to storm out of the room.

I didn't blame him for who or how he was, knowing that he'd just lost his father and brother. I didn't blame him, but I didn't like him for his personality because of that.

"Aiden, wait, no -- don't --" I begged, pulling on his arm. He pulled himself away from me, picking up pace and heading out the door. It slammed and I felt the rush of air hit me from where I stood, in the middle of my room. Holding my hand over my eyes, I desperately fought the urge to let my tears spill out of my watering eyes. I hadn't cried since my sister died and I always told myself not to so it would make me seem stronger.  
But that night, I couldn't. I cried and cried and kicked myself over and over again for wanting something real.  
Something real with someone who made it feel real.

The next day after that was when Aiden left to do his part in the mission on diverting the herd of walkers away from Alexandria. We hadn't talked about it at all after that night and that meant I'd been left alone with questions for him that couldn't be answered.

I remember when The Wolves attacked, soon after. They came, and they came to kill people, breaking through the walls and murdering innocents everywhere. Deanna got stabbed and left to bleed out. She was dying with honor.  
I was angry and I was so confused at first, as to why we were being targeted. But in the end I realized that they were really just a group of rabid killers, effected by the filthy world so much that they were all too far gone to think about anything else than taking human life. I still didn't completely understand why, but I knew that they were a threat to the safety of all of Alexandria. To all of my family.

That's something that I often forgot. I forgot that I wasn't just surrounded by Aiden and the negativity he brought me, but I had my family. Rick, Carl, Michonne, Daryl, I had everyone I'd survived with since my daddy's farm, a long time ago. I had the people who looked after me, the people who cared about me.  
But they were all out there past the walls, trying to keep the walkers away from taking a path back to the community.  
And I was just there, by myself.

That's where I still am now. Standing here on this damn watch tower, gazing down at the world outside the walls. Too transfixed in my thoughts of what happened before, to focus on after.  
The miscarriage.

It had been weeks since Aiden left and the attack of The Wolves. Rick and all the other squads had returned home. All except for Aiden's. He had gone with Daryl, then was supposed to meet up with Abraham and Sasha.  
Overall, the plan had went fine, only a few major obstacles thrown in along the way. But we overcame them, like we always did.  
So, that added more mystery as to why Aiden wasn't home yet. I would spend hours up at night, visualizing him hugging me and telling me that he was wrong about what he said to me before he left, right when he stepped through the gates as he got back.  
I would drift off to sleep, laying my hand on my stomach.

Then I lost the baby.  
I was just sleeping, and I woke up and I felt pain and blood.  
I wanted Aiden. I just wanted him to've been the one to carry me down the stairs to the infirmary instead of Rick. I wanted him to be the one who held my hand after everything was done instead of Rick. He wasn't worth it, though. He would've probably just laughed in my face and been happy that I wasn't pregnant anymore. He never cared what I thought, after all. He never noticed if I would give him my opinion on something. Aiden didn't even know how I felt about having a baby because he had to run off and throw a fit about the situation.  
So screw him.

Rick was with me through it all, checking in with me all the days afterwards, just to make sure I was alright. I would always say I was, and he would smile and walk off. Why couldn't Aiden be more like him?

  
I'm still pondering about this, staring down at the tall grass swaying with the wind in that field below me. Then, I jerk my head up at the sound of loud shouts from the direction of the gates. I hear them being pulled open.

Seeing Abraham, Sasha, and Daryl step out of a truck by the entrance, I wondered if it was a coincidence I had just been thinking about Aiden's fate. Because now, the answer was right in front of me. Their squad was finally back. Aiden wasn't with them.

I turn around and watch Abraham tell Rick something. Assuming it was about their journey and why it'd taken them weeks to arrive back to the group (leaving us to all think they were dead) I slowly climbed down the ladder and dragged my feet along the pavement toward them. They lifted their heads when they saw me, the four of them all wearing blank expressions on their faces.

"Aiden's dead?" I said, sounding more like a statement than a question, because it was what I believed.

"After the shit that took us so long to get back here went down, we all got stopped on the way home. On the road, these bikers or somethin' came and look a bunch of our crap, robbed us. Aiden was runnin' his mouth, pissin' off the guy in charge of that group. They shot him at point blank range, n' were about to kill us, too," Abraham said softly, stopping and looking for a reaction of mine. I didn't have one, and he continued. "'Bout a second later, Daryl came over with an RPG and blew 'em to smithereens. Think the one that shot him got away, though. Darted off into the woods,"

I honestly didn't have much of a reaction to Aiden's death. I didn't want to cry, like I said before, he wasn't worth it. I was just thinking about how he never knew about the miscarriage. I shut my eyes and exhaled deeply.

"What was with that biker gang, they have a name?" I asked, shifting my weight to my other foot and crossing my arms.

"They mentioned Negan. I don't know what the hell that means, but --" Sasha began, Rick finishing for her.

"It's not good. But I don't think there's much we can do, for now. Let's just hope they're not like The Wolves,"

We all separated, but Rick set his hand on my shoulder before I started to walk away.  
"You good?" he asked, eyes glistening with care.

"I'm good," I sighed, giving him a look of assurance.

It bugged me that I never got to tell him off for how much of a worthless piece of shit he was being, but I knew not to dwell on the fact that Aiden was dead. I knew it would just end up with my thoughts circling back to my family. My father, my sister, my friends.

 

* * *

  
That night, I thought some more about what I wanted next. I didn't want anyone like Aiden or Kyle in my life. I wanted to be myself and I wanted to be free to share what I thought with others, when they would listen (unlike Aiden). I wanted to survive my way, not stuck in some fake relationship with someone who didn't have real feelings.  
I said a prayer for Aiden, and my head hit my pillow as I drifted off to sleep, thinking of someone better for me than he was.


	2. guts & gasoline

 

_**mercy chapter two.** _

_guts & gasoline_

 

_glenn rhee_

***

  
Wake up.  
My alarm clock rang loud in my ears and I lazily swatted at the top of it until I found the button that shut the damn thing off.  
Turning over in my bed, I rubbed my warm face with cold hands and sat up to see the golden light shining through the curtains of my room. My red eyes throbbed as usual, because of my lack of sleep. I shifted around and the mattress creaked with my movements, making a louder sound when I got up completely.

I threw on a shirt and some jeans, then made my way over to my counter and made myself some coffee. It was early, too early. But I said I would get up today and head out to find one of our missing guys. He'd fled late last night and Negan asked me to look around outside The Sanctuary first thing in the morning. I agreed, and did as told.

I was one of his favorites, I think. He treated me well and we had great conversations sometimes. I remember when I first joined The Saviors and I was innocent and selfless. How I'd been afraid of Negan so much, and now he was my leader. I didn't necessarily look up to him, but I followed him. I would always follow him.

Back when I first got the hang of things around The Sanctuary, I didn't agree with all of Negan's rules, motives, and actions. Mostly, the killing part. But now I'd gladly slit someone -- anyone's -- throat, if given the order to. It didn't bother me anymore because I found out that death is just a part of a person's life. It's inevitable.

I took a final swig of my coffee and threw on a jacket, my black gloves, and some boots, then walked out the door and down the hallway. Reaching the parking spaces outside, I jumped in my old blue Ford and turned the key in the ignition, hearing the stereo blast to life once the vehicle started. I peeked out the rear-view mirror up at the sky, which looked dark and ominous from the stormy clouds hanging overhead. The sun had completely disappeared from the time in between when I woke up and now, much to my surprise.

"There's gotta be some good shit on this one," I mumbled to myself, picking a random CD (from the pile of them that I had collected, and still did) and inserting it into the disk player.  
An old Johnny Cash song came on and I tried to mouth the words to it as I pulled away from the building and drove off down the road. A map was on the dashboard, which I would occasionally glance at to see where to go.

After a few miles of driving, which I thoroughly enjoyed because I liked to watch the woods fly past me from behind the glass of a truck window, my eyes began to slowly close. But suddenly, I stepped on the brakes after I ran over something large and round.

"What the hell was that?" I asked myself, grabbing my pistol and stepping out from the truck after turning down the radio dial.

Making my way over to the object, I found that it was a backpack. Inside were things essential for survival. Water and food, something that someone who ran away would need to live. No doubt it came from Thomas, the man I'd been sent out to find and kill. Well, the killing part was up to me, but I knew what I wanted to do.

Apart from the bodies of walkers laying scattered around the area, I saw no sign of the escaped Savior anywhere. Except looking ahead down the road, I found there was an old gas station up ahead.  
Maybe that's where he's hiding...

I hopped back into the truck, driving off towards the small building. Johnny Cash still played throughout the vehicle as I pulled up on the road outside the place, and I tapped my fingers against the back of the steering wheel with the beat of the song. The melody still hung in my head when I shoved my gun inside the holster that slung across my chest and climbed out of the truck. The music was turned off, but I had that tune stuck in my brain, so I hummed it.

I noticed once I reached the entrance that the chain that'd once held the doors shut was shot apart, leaving an open invitation for me to waltz inside. Which, I did.  
I pushed open the glass doors and shoved my hands in my pockets, still humming and walking around the small, dark area. I came down every one of the aisles, not just on the lookout for Thomas, but anything that I could find useful.

Without luck, I soon came to the counter. What was the first thing I see when I look behind it?

Thomas.

I observe him carefully: legs sprawled out on the floor, head leaning against the side of the cabinets, and hands folded together in his lap. The side of his face was slightly bloody, light colored hair hanging down on his forehead. My guess was that Thomas had made it that far and then gotten surrounded by walkers down the street, lost his backpack and supplies trying to fight them off, got bit, then ended up retreating to the gas station.

A clear look of disappointment spread across my face, seeing him like that, because he did look to be already dead.

"What? Come on, the party hasn't even started," I huffed, crossing my arms and peering down at the slim man, "walkers are so boring,"

I faced the fact that I was going to have to pick him up and throw him in the back of the pickup so we'd have another walker for The Sanctuary, which would most likely make Negan happy. While I considered that as a pretty good option, I kind of wanted to do something that was worth my wasted time coming out to find him, and ideas stirred through my brain. I let out a chuckle to myself as I began to turn and walk away, knowing my leader wouldn't be happy with what I had in mind, when I heard the low, gravely voice of Thomas from behind me.

"I'm still --" he interrupted himself with a hard wheeze, "I'm still here,"

I pivoted with my foot and shot him a smile, "great. Then you know why I'm here--"

"Yeah,"

"So, Thomas... why're you out here? Why'd you leave?"

"You don't care. Y--you... I don't need to te--tell you any... anything..." the injured man mumbled, moving his head around a little.

"Oh, please do. I got all the time in the world," I replied, sitting on top of the counter and resting my chin on my hand.

"It's... not living," he said.

"Mm... what...?"

"None of it. I see what he does, the life he chooses for us. I know it's not living. It's not actually living... not surviving,"

"Negan, you mean? Us, The Saviors?"

Thomas nodded, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth where it started to drool from.

"Of course it is," I shrugged with a small laugh, "I'm sitting right here, breathing. I follow Negan. You know what happened when you left? When you abandoned the life he chose for us? This. Buddy, this isn't living, either. If you haven't noticed, you're really not doing so good. Looks to me like your life's gonna be ending pretty quick,"

"At least I'm saving yours," he mumbled, just barely loud enough for me to hear and comprehend before he pulled out a handgun from beside him and fired it at my chest.  
I dodged he bullet, just barely, then sprang back up with a hard face and my pistol raised. I heard something fall and break from behind me, probably from the gunshot. After a second of staring him dead in the eye, a smile formed across my lips and I lowered my weapon. Kicking his gun out of his hand, swiftly, I picked it up from the floor and looked back to him, still wearing that grin.

"Wh--" Thomas stopped a moment to cough, traces of confusion in his eyes, "why do you look happy? I ju--just tried to--"

"Kill me? Oh, I know. You see, let me explain something to you, though. I got up extra early this morning, to drive out here and find you, Tommy. I'm gonna call you Tommy now. Anyways, I did find you, successfully. But, here's the thing. I'm bored and really sad I didn't get to sleep in, or have any fun. So, why do I look happy, you ask?" I said cockily, holstering my gun and tucking Thomas's weapon in the waistband of my jeans as I spoke, "I'm excited, because you just tried to shoot me, and now I'm pissed off,"

He made a quiet shrieking noise as I dragged him by the collar of his shirt out from behind the counter and shoved him through the front doors, sending him tumbling out onto the parking lot. I felt the anticipation rising, listening to the man groan in agony. There was creativity flowing through my veins of all the bad that I could do to him in that moment. But I already knew.

Thomas was bit right in the side of his torso, blood staining his grey t-shirt. I looked back at him from where I stood, opening the tailgate of my truck.

"Hm, it's not in here... oh, the toolbox," I mumbled to myself, looking around the bed of my truck for the rope, "damn... rope is more fun, but I guess I'll have to go without,"

I turned from the truck and pushed Thomas on his stomach, then dragged him up so he was lying next to one of the gas pumps. That song made it's way into my brain again, and I just couldn't help but quietly hum along.

"You know where we are, Tommy? We're at a gas station. You know that gas is highly flammable, right? I bet you see where I'm going with this, don't you?" I asked, unable to hold in my quiet chuckle. I stopped humming and grew more concentrated with my actions to make sure I was as careful as possible.

"P--please, I'm already dead... don't!  
D--don't! Just shoot me, please!" the man begged, and I just sighed long and slowly.

"But, Tommy," I pursed my lips, crouching beside him, "that's too easy!"

I got up and found an old rag in the box of tools from my truck which I shoved in his mouth so his wails were muffled, then walked over to the red can laying on it's side on the concrete.

"Ah," I smirked, dumping the can all over the gas pumps, leaving a trail that lead back to Thomas, "don't you just love the smell of gasoline?"

Moments later, that smirk was still plastered on my face as I threw a lighter into the trail of gas and sped away, laughing to myself because I bet the explosion was so big that Negan could've seen it from back home.

  
When my truck came to a stop and I jumped out, I was greeted than none other than the man himself. The sun was hanging up high in the sky, indicating it was only a little past noon, maybe.

"Sir," I said, kneeling to him, then standing up and scratching my chin.

"I see ya didn't come back with Thomas, did you?"

"I'm sorry but, he was already turned when I got there. I found him inside an abandoned gas station, an--" I stopped, distracted by the wide smile that came across Negan's face.

"That's what that was! Damn, you fucking scared me, Glenn. Thought it could'a been something serious, heard the pow all the way from here out! You blew it up, right?"

I nodded, keeping my chuckle short. I was right, he did hear the blast from here.

"That's fucking awesome. Not gonna lie, a huge waste of resources and probably kind of a dumb move, but fucking awesome. What happened with Thomas?"

"I swear, Negan, it was only self defense. I didn't even mean to shoot him, but I didn't know what to do. Didn't see it, he just came out of nowhere and jumped on me, I had to take him out," I lied, clearly and perfectly.

"S'alright, we need some new ones soon, though, I expect you'll get a crew on that,"

"Yes, sir," I nodded, then began to walk off.

"Glenn. I need talk with you later, just come by and see me please," his low voice boomed.  
It made me wonder if he was going to punish me for something I did. I guessed I'd just have to find out for myself.

"Y-yeah. I'm gonna wash up and get something to eat, then I can meet up with you," I responded, slipping off my gloves and stuffing them in my jeans pockets.

"Okay. My office. You do that, though. Take a shower first, I mean. No offense, but you smell fucking disgusting. Like guts and gasoline, Glenn," the man said with a deep chuckle, gripping Lucille tight in his hand.  
Just something to mention: I don't like that bat. I know there's more to it, maybe a story behind it, that no one knows. Although I try to hide it, whenever I'm around Lucille I get uneasy.

With that, I headed past my leader and went inside, making my way down the dim hallway until I came to my room.

A little later I was coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist, and soon found myself in search of my black gloves. I was awful forgetful, but I knew that those were something I just couldn't lose.  
"Damn it, where the hell did I put them?" I mumbled to myself under my breath as I came around the corner to my bed.  
I saw my pants in the basket of dirty clothes next to it, and suddenly remembered that I'd taken off the gloves and put them in my pockets. I let out a heavy sigh of relief, got them out, and set them in the drawer by my bedside and then began to get dressed.

  
When I left my room, I went to Negan and ended up on a chair sitting directly in front of the man in charge. His hair was slicked back as usual, but he wasn't wearing a leather jacket like usual, only in a white tee. Lucille was resting on his lap, with his attention focused to me.

"I hate to ask -- well, tell you, -- but I'm gonna need you to go check out base two tonight. The satellite station?" he said, a pencil in his hand to fiddle with as he spoke.

"Tonight? Yeah. Is there a reason why?" I questioned, my curiosity rising.

"Ah, just some commotion over there I got word about. Something to do with The Hilltop. And they're damn good producers, so I just wanna make sure we don't have a fucking rebellion planned against us or anything like that. It's probably nothing, but could ya stay over for a night or two and monitor things at that outpost?"

"Yes, sir," I obeyed, giving his desk a small tap, standing up, and walking to the exit of the room.

"You know, I think after all this time I might owe you one. So..." Negan sighed, setting down the pencil on the notepad, "when you get back I'm gonna give you a free night with the wives. Whatever you want goes. If they're fine with it,"

I couldn't help but let a smile creep onto my face. I bit my lower lip and dipped my head in a "thank you" nod.  
I left, keeping one foot in front of the other as I sped down the hallway. If I was gonna make it to the satellite station by nightfall, I had to leave as soon as I could. We used it just as another base, where we had about 50 men. I wasn't exactly thrilled about having to take a long trip at this that time in the day but I had to follow orders.

I wasn't always like this. I didn't always just go through life doing whatever I was told. I used to be myself, follow the rules I made for me.  
I was a pizza delivery boy before the fall and afterwards I met a group that wanted me to be a part of how they survived. I'd been a supply runner for them. More than that, I'd been their friend. That was something I didn't really remember about, but I fucking missed it.  
As a Savior you don't have friends. Only enemies.  
And, we didn't have a label. My original group back in Atlanta, we weren't better than anyone else out in that damned world who were just trying to survive. We didn't own anyone.  
I didn't take life, only saved it.

I used to look down on just the idea spilling someone else's blood, on killing another human being. Once, I saved a man's life and put mine at risk when I did it.  
Looking back now, I can't understand why.  
That's what gets me. How I've changed. I know I have, I can't say if it's for worse or for better, but I'm just not the same.  
Rick, I think his name was. It's hard to remember, but I saved him one day. He was trapped in the city streets, and I rescued him. Later, when we got back to our camp, it turned out his whole family was there, and they'd been looking for each other the whole time. I remember that made me feel good, but I can't really describe how it made me feel good because I don't remember that part. Or maybe I just don't understand it anymore.

What I know now is none of that matters. I can't change the past, I can't change how I was separated from those people I survived with in Atlanta during a walker attack, later picked up by The Saviors. That now I live for a man of power and control, someone who manipulates and screws with people. I provide for him and answer to him, never for myself.


	3. the start

 

**_mercy chapter three._ **

_the start_

 

  
 _maggie greene_   
***

"Kill them all,"

  
After finding out about Aiden's death, our group began to take more caution with runs and ventures outside the walls. Only weeks later, however, did Rick and Daryl stumble upon a man named Jesus, who belonged to a community of his own. He claimed that our "world was about to get a whole lot bigger," whatever that means. And when we gained his trust, everyone set out and met up with his group in hopes of trading for food and other necessary goods that we were in need of. The colony he was home to was called The Hilltop, lead by a very unintelligent man with the name of Gregory. I went along and was the one to talk to him, able to eventually work out a deal after some painful debate.

Jesus explained that it would be a lot harder to try and give up more things for us, when they had The Saviors to get in their way. He said that The Saviors were an army lead by a mysterious, gruesome man. Negan.   
They were the ones who killed Aiden.

Jesus told us that they showed up and beat one of them to death in front of everybody with a baseball bat, demanding them to provide whatever they wanted by demand. That sentence alone was enough to make me want to find and kill everyone of them, though I wouldn't admit that.   
Rick made the deal with them that we would take care of Negan and The Saviors, so we received half of what The Hilltop had in return. After having dealt with people like Gareth and The Governor in the past, it seemed simple to go in and take care of a problem so similar. In our minds, it was just an easy, easy job.

So after we got back from The Hilltop, Rick held a meeting in the church where he explained to everyone about what we were going to have to do.  
"Kill them all,"

  
I stood with my arms crossed as I watched a member of The Hilltop scribble down the description of their base, giving us the knowledge he'd collected from numbers is times he'd had to deliver goods to The Saviors.  
We talked it over and developed our plan of attack, how we would kill them, and when we would do it.

The morning we were leaving to go out and check out the area, I felt as heavy as a brick and didn't want to leave my bed. I tossed and turned, not able to open my eyes and drag my feet out the door.   
Every time I would think about going in that place and killing one of those assholes I would just feel guilt. I know I shouldn't have because they were bad people, but I did. It was just my dad's voice in my head, haunting me of being a better person.

I did get out of bed eventually. I went out with my group and we sat outside the walls on different roads close to the base, guns loaded and palms sweating. I tried to think of what they did to Aiden. I shouldn't stand for anybody killing someone I loved.  
But that was the problem. I didn't love him.

We were given a signal and I marched out of the RV, down the field, and approached the satellite building with a raised rifle and a racing heart.   
The rest, everything after that, is just red.

  
•••

  
As the grey morning sky slowly brightened, I wiped some of the blood from where it dripped down my face, rubbing it on my jeans so it wouldn't stain my skin. I overheard Michonne tell Rick that she was wondering which one of them was Negan, and now that was all I could think about. Which one we killed was Negan? What life had been taken that belonged to that monster, I knew I would probably never figure out. It was bugging me, sticking in my mind as I leaned on one of the cars we'd parked in the empty lot of the satalite station. The atmosphere felt of death and despair, thick all through the air. Maybe I was the only one who could feel it, but it was there. From what we'd just done, it had to be there.

I then sat up on the hood of the truck, peering out at my family as we all regrouped and made sure we were all accounted for. My thoughts drifted off to Aiden, and if this meant now that he was avenged. Even if he was, I don't know why I thought I cared. I didn't.

My eyes fell on the corner of the building and I thought that, for a brief second, I saw movement. At first I dismissed it as just being tired and my eyes playing tricks on me, but realized there was a figure standing right in the shadows, clear as day. In the dark light of the morning, I jumped down and quickly made my way across the grass to the location where I'd just saw the person.

Maybe it was just Carol or Tara on lookout...?

No. Again, it moved.

I could just barely make out small features like the height and body mass. It appeared to be a man, not too tall or short, slim but broad. I slowly creeped closer, and when I finally turned the corner of the building, I found nobody there. I glanced around and found nothing but the blades of dead grass on the ground blowing violently in the wind. I let out a deep breath of relief, assuring myself that it was stupid to think that we'd have let a Savior get away. I turned back and started to call for Rick, when two hands grabbed me by my neck.

"Shh, shh, quiet now. Nobody needs to get hurt, just follow some simple directions, okay?" A man's voice whispered into my ear, pressing me against the wall of the satalite station.

Panic flooded my brain. The man moved one of his hands from my neck to my mouth, keeping me from yelling out. I squeezed my eyes shut tight momentarily in frustration, but when I opened them, it wasn't much of what I was expecting to see.

He was young, maybe around my age. The guy was Asian with tuffs of raven colored hair swept up on his head, wearing a black tee and a dark jacket over that. His face was unreadable, not having a certain expression on it as he stared into my eyes and held me in place. My arms tried to push him away but to no avail. I grunted loudly, trying to attract the attention of anyone, but he just tightened his hand around my face more to where he was using so much force my jaw felt like it was on fire.   
The man pressed himself against me, reminding me all too much of my experience with The Governor. He reached under his jacket and pulled something out. I knew what it was before I even saw it and immediately acted, but on quick thinking. The only parts of my body available to defend myself were below my torso, so I pulled up my foot and kicked him right between his legs, making his face twist up and a squeaking sound come from his mouth.   
"Shit...!" he yelped.

I watched him tumble over, getting on top of him once he was on the ground, although he regained himself rather quickly and flipped us over so he was hovering above me. The strands of hair near the top of his head fell, draping across his forehead. He brought his hand up and then down on my face, resulting in a quiet wail from my lips. He hit me over and over, showing me no mercy, before I thrust my head into his and caught him off guard. The man lunged back and I took the opportunity to punch him in the throat and pull out my knife. Now next to him on the ground, he let his head fall back onto the grass as I pressed the sharp blade to the skin of his neck, right above his bobbing Adam's apple.

"You fight like a damn girl, you know that?" the man gasped out in a raspy voice, still trying to catch his breath.

"Thanks. I won, so I'm taking that as a compliment," I replied, applying a slight amount of pressure to his skin with my knife. I was about to slide my hand, leaving him to die and bleed away. I was so close. But in that moment, I had an advantage I had to use.

"I'm gonna ask you some things, and I expect an answer," I barked, pressing down harder against his neck.

"I'm all ears. But, I mean, I think I should be the one asking questions. I have no idea who the fuck you people are, but you just killed all my friends!" the man fake pouted  from below me, obviously not effected by my knife at his throat.

"Negan. Was he in there? Is he still alive? Did we kill hi--?" I said, ignoring him, but the Savior cut me off with a chuckle.

"Oh, sweetie," he laughed, "I am Negan,"

I scowled at him, forcing down the knife onto his windpipe and making him gag.

"Agh--" he groaned, squeezing his eyes closed. I sighed and frowned more, crawling onto him and yanking his head up by his hair, causing a whimper to come from his lips.

"What the hell does that mean?!" I growled, glaring at his dark, mysterious eyes below me.   
He didn't answer and just seemed to study my face, and there was a grin spreading across his.   
I moved the blade to his jawline and began to cut down his jaw to his neck, not deep, but enough for his body to tense and his eyes to shut tight once again.

"I--I don't think I'm supposed to tell you that," the Savior hissed, then added in a whisper, "it's a secret,"

"Fine. Have it your way," I said, moving the knife back down to his neck and preparing to cut it.

"Wait, wait!" he cried, his face changing from confident to fearful. I raised my eyebrow, questioningly.  
"I need to ask you something. Did that hurt?"

"What?"   
I was more confused than ever, not that I really cared.

"That," he smiled.

I didn't have much time to think his words over before he swung his head up at me, his forehead bucking into mine. The sharp pain was enough to make me lose my focus and he grabbed my neck again and picked me up. Pinning me to the wall on the side of the satellite station.

"Whoops," the man giggled evilly, "ah, don't you wish you would've just killed me at the start?"

I couldn't answer because of his tight grip around my throat, but I did. I wish I would've just slit his throat and have been done with it. But something about him, maybe his stupid, charismatically interesting comments or maybe something about the way his brown eyes fit with his hair and strong body perfectly. I don't know what it was, but it pulled me in and distracted me.   
And now I was going to die.

My breath was literally being taken away, all by one pathetic Savior. By the same people who killed by boyfriend. He was just holding me there with his hand squeezing the life from my lungs. My thoughts began to fade, just like my vision.   
But before I drifted away into unconsciousness, I caught a blurry glimpse of Rick knocking out the guy who was strangling me, and I think I felt myself fall to the ground.


	4. captivity

 

**_mercy chapter four._ **

_captivity_

 

_glenn rhee_

***

 

I opened my eyes and found myself lying on a solid, cold floor. It was stone.   
I immediately shot upwards with a stifled cry, thinking I was back in the cell. The cell at The Sanctuary. I still had dreams about what happened to me there.

But, I wasn't at The Sanctuary. I was in a room that looked like a basement of a house, with a small window near the ceiling at the opposite side of the room. There was a stale smell of dirt or grime, not exactly appealing. I was in a cell, but it was like an actual cell. It was a small space, enclosed by metal bars. Standing to my feet, I set my head in my hands and tried to remember what happened.

I'd went to the station after a long drive and gone to a room to lay down right when I arrived. Nothing with any of the crew there seemed to be off, and I figured there was nothing wrong. Then in the middle of my sleep, my eyelids blinked open when I heard the sound of gunshots. I remembered I fled the building and waited until our attackers left the satellite station, and snuck around the side of the wall to observe the group. They didn't seem to be bigger than us, not at all. I could hardly make out anyone or anything out of them, but that's when I zeroed in on her.  
That girl with the southern accent.

I thought back to what I'd done. When she revealed my hiding spot I'd tried to kill her, choking her and beating her because she killed everyone at the outpost. I was furious, but that rage was gone now. Still, I had her in my hands. I remember getting hit in the head, and that's it.   
Maybe she's dead? Didn't I kill her? I thought.   
Personally, thinking back now, she was really pretty. Her brunette hair was a perfect length, and it fell across her face nicely, concealing part of her cheek and eye. Her eyes. When I'd been on top of her, holding her down, I'd looked into her eyes. They were light and green, full of mystery and dark secrets, I was sure. I could feel that she was the type of survivor who'd seen a lot and had really felt the cruelness of this shitty world.

I was sitting with my back rested against the concrete wall, now, my legs laying out in front of me. I stared down at my hands, my knuckles red from punching that girl. The window across the room on the outside of the cell was dark, so I assumed it was some time in the night.

Even though I wanted to focus on what to next, my mind kept traveling back to that damn girl. I tried to brainstorm ideas on what I would do now, and thought about how pissed Negan was gonna be, but my thoughts shifted to the woman again.

My ears picked up the sound of a door creaking open, followed by small footsteps coming my way. I snapped out of my own thoughts and paid all my attention to the figure entering the room.   
Because it was her.  
Still, I didn't raise my head to look. I kept it tilted down as I fidgeted with my fingers, moving them to play with the torn stitchings on the side of my jeans.

Finally, I turned my gaze to her, seeing her beauty once again.   
I still wanna kill her, but maybe her looks'll get in the way. That might be a problem.

The girl stood outside the cell door for a second, then took a set of keys and inserted them into a keyhole as opened up the door a crack. She set a plate of food inside on the floor, along with a small bottle of water, and locked the door again. The woman didn't look directly at me, but now my stare followed her every move. She was in a grey tee, with some skinny jeans. Those same green eyes were avoiding mine and I decided to try and change that before she walked out of the room.

I cleared my throat, preparing myself to speak.   
"Those marks. On your neck. They from me?" I asked, crossing my legs and laying my head back against the wall behind me.

She only dug her hands into her pockets, her gaze not meeting mine for a minute until she lifted her head. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her face, because now I was able to really see her. She looked about my age, or somewhere around it. For a second I couldn't say anything, but regained myself and sunk my head back down.

"Would it help to say sorry?" I asked, trying to maintain a straight face, but I wasn't sure I was doing so good and I think she saw my expression.

"I don't think it would matter, ya almost killed me," she mumbled, her accent thick and her voice quiet.

"Thank you. For the food, I mean," I smiled, gesturing to the plate in front of me.

"Don't get too comfortable. S'just to keep you alive," she said, bitterly, "for now,"

"It's good enough for me," I shrugged, pulling the dish towards myself.   
She turned around to walk away, and bumped into another man on her way out. He'd been walking down towards me in the cell and she didn't notice. I watched them interact, gulping down some water from the bottle.

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, sending him a look that told him so.

"S'fine. I'm just... gonna start talkin' to that guy," the man said in a low tone, "see how much he knows and what he's willin' to give up. Can I do it alone?"

The girl nodded and slipped past the man, who I still hadn't gotten a good look at. I peered around the corner when the two disappeared out of eyesight, then decided to leave it alone and eat.   
I sat back against the hard wall, setting down the ham sandwich and wiping my mouth.

"I didn't know if it was you at first," the male's voice said, from somewhere I couldn't see.

A switch in the back of my mind flipped and I began to sense something oddly familiar about that voice. The deep, southern drawl. Common, because we were in the south, but still. I'd heard it before.   
I searched through memories, trying to figure out where I recognized him from. It was like whatever it was was buried so deep in my mind that I wasn't going to be able to guess it.

Then, all I saw was the bottom of the man's boots that moved against the solid floor.   
Slowly a smirk spread across my lips when I glanced up to his face.

His hair was a little longer, the brown curls reaching down to his neck and hanging across his forehead, plus he was a lot broader and had more scruff than the last time I'd seen him.   
His eyes were still as blue as ever, but they seemed more intimidating and hard. Like the girl's, they seemed that if you looked long and deep enough into them, you could get lost in all the things he'd seen.

We didn't say anything, only looked back at each other.

It'd been a long time since I'd seen Rick Grimes. Instantly, I remembered Atlanta. He was the one I'd rescued and lead back to his family when I was with my old group. I was lost, found Negan, now I'm here. And that's  the end of the story. Well, that was supposed to be the end of the story.

"What happened?" was all he asked, pulling up a foldable chair and taking a seat in front of me, "we thought you were dead,"

I lifted myself to my feet and crossed my arms, still smiling.   
"Deputy. I was sure I'd seen the last of you," I yipped sarcastically.

"Enough with the shit, Glenn. Answer my questions,"

"You remember my name? Wow, I'm touched!" I joked, holding my hand to my heart with a grin.

"You know how long we looked for you? You know how many nights I spent sitting up with you on my mind? I couldn't believe that you'd saved me, and I couldn't find you. Now, look. You're different. It wasn't even worth it," Rick told me, staring directly into my eyes so that I really felt the sharp edge to each word he spoke.

"Nope, guess not. Nice place," I continued on, not exactly caring to hear his reaction to my disappearance, "from what I can see from behind these bars. Say, why don't you unlock that door. Gimme a tour or something, introduce me to everyone. Maybe someone'll remember me. That is, if they're still alive. What happened to that old group of ours? How many made it here?"

"Four," the man answered dryly.

"Fantastic. Can't wait to meet 'em,"

"You're not going anywhere. You're gonna talk for us, tell us some things we wanna know, then we blow your brains out with a gun. That sound good to you? Or, maybe, if we're nice, we'll drop you off somewhere far, far away from here. We'll watch the walkers tear every piece of flesh from your body," he spat to me with a tough glare.   
I only looked back at him for a second before bursting out with a small laugh, lowering my head.

"Nice, Rick. Nice, really. I'm terrified," I said, chuckling, "but, uh, who is "we" around here anyways? Just you four?"

"Please. You think we didn't find others? We have numbers, now. You don't. We took care of that problem,"

"Oh, you did? I can just tell Negan about your little attack and then with a snap of my fingers we'll be at your door, surrounding you," I smirked, snapping my fingers dramatically, "just like that. We're everywhere, Rick. You didn't take care of anything. You just made it all worse for you and everyone here. I promise, when I get outta here, I'll be back. And I'll be the one to make you bleed. I'll be the one to end your life,"

He was furrowing his brows and staring at me, hard, with his blue eyes.   
"So we didn't kill Negan?"

"Not even close. Also, just a side note, you can't kill Negan,"

"Why not?"

"I already told you," shrugging, then leaning down to grab the water bottle again and finishing before bringing it to my lips, "we're everywhere,"

  
He left me after that. Rick didn't say anything, just stood up and switched off the lights. I heard the click of his boots against the floor and the sound of a door closing before being engulfed in complete darkness. There was only a glimmer of light that shone through the small window at the opposite side of the room outside the cell, casting a small shadow near my foot where I sat on the ground, again. Not only was I thinking of ways to escape, but now I was thinking of ways to hurt that damn sheriff.  
I was gonna make him regret ever stepping foot in that satellite station.


	5. thought

 

_**mercy chapter five.** _

 thought

_maggie greene_  
_******* _

Saviors, all the ones I encountered looked old, maybe their late thirties or forties. Not him. He looked almost my age. He was Asian, had slight stubble, and black hair. His face was nowhere near wrinkled, but only scarred, dirty, and cut.  
I don't know his name, and I don't want to. He made me uneasy.  
Yet, he had a charm to him that a part of me adored.

I had hatred towards him for nearly killing me, which he obviously didn't seem to care about. That was what tied him to all the other Saviors. He was just as evil and pathetic.

At first, I thought maybe he was Negan. He was the only one left, the only one alive. I'd told Rick my thinking, but he only brushed me off and told me he couldn't be.

"Really, how do you know?" I asked.

"I just...do..." he'd answered.

Rick was acting weird, when he came back from talking with the Savior in the basement. I met him outside and he was more silent than he'd been before.

"You okay? He talk?"

"Well, he said Negan's still out there. He said there's more of them. That we're not safe," Rick mumbled, walking past me.  
I followed him, questioning him further.

"So what's the plan, we get information from him about where the rest of them are, take them out, then kill that Savior?"

He stopped walking, when we approached his house, turning around to me and cocking his head to the side.  
"Yeah, that would be a good plan. I just really don't know if we can get him to talk any further," Rick paused, "he seems like he'd be willing to die for Negan. But if he's tellin' the truth and there's more of 'em out there, I want every guard to double up. Make sure everyone's armed. I got no doubt that this asshole could find us,"

I let him walk into the house and stood alone on the sidewalk for a minute, then made my way down the street to the west tower for my watch shift.  
As I listened to crickets chirping, my attention fell on the cattails that swayed in the wind down below me. Things were different now that I lost Aiden. I could keep my head focused more on our safety. He'd blinded me of that whenever he was around me. He blinded me of most things.

I felt the tower shake as someone climbed up, quickly glancing over my shoulder to see Tara. She was one of my best friends out of everyone in my group. There were a number of reasons, but the top one was the fact that she was just an amazing person. Every time we had to fight against other survivors, we'd have each other's backs.

"Hey, Mags," she greeted me with a smile, pulling herself up onto the platform.

"What's up, Tara?" I asked, moving over so she could lean against the railing next to me.

"Came up here at Rick's request. Didn't wanna double up with Eugene's watch, he'll probably just go on and on about something too scientific for me to understand and then it'll just be awkward when he's done talking and realized I wasn't listening to a word," Tara shrugged, taking her pistol out from its holster and fidgeting with it in her hands.

I laughed, but soon the conversation fell silent.

"You think they're really still alive? There's more? Maybe they're just watching us. Waiting," she exhaled deeply, "God, I hope that fucking Savior's lying,"

"He probably is. Almost killed me, and even when I had to go down and give him somethin' to eat he was a dick. I wouldn't bet on him actually tellin' the truth. Like Rick said, he's willin' to die for Negan and his group. Why would he even give up anything about them, then?"

"Yeah. I just don't want anything to happen to this place. It's finally, like we're living, y'know?"

I let the quiet of the night settle in briefly before answering softly.  
"I know,"

  
She had a point, one that bugged me for the rest of the night. What if we really hadn't killed them all? What if it was like hitting a beehive with a stick? You didn't harm them, just pissed them off.  
God, I hoped not.

After my shift, I walked home with Tara and we said goodnight. I collapsed down onto my bed and finally got a few more hours of sleep, but I was up before noon. I had to go out with Abraham today for a small run out to a small convenient store, only about fifteen minutes away. We always went early so that if anything did happen, we would have plenty of daylight left to make it home. He knew I would be getting up later than normal for the run, though, and was sitting at the dining room table downstairs after I got dressed for the day.

I told him I had to complete a few tasks before we loaded up and left Alexandria, which was true. He just gave me one of his signature 'Abe Grunts' and turned back to his food.  
Before long I was busy preparing a sandwich for the prisoner we kept enclosed in the cell in the basement a few houses down. If it were up to me, I wouldn't feed him at all. But I knew Rick wanted him alive.

The sky was bright and filled with sun, adding to the summer heat. I was in the same shirt I wore the day before and jeans shorts to escape the miserable weather, but there was a calm breeze to help, too.  
I descended down the stairs and opened the door of the basement, which was on the exterior of the house, then stepped inside. The atmosphere was noticeably cooler than the outside. I figured that meant the Savior was lucky.

"Finally, some company. It's so lonely down here," the man whined, leaning against the metal bars.

"Get outta the way, or I won't give you this," I muttered, holding up the plate.

"What a tragedy. Say, can't you just, spend some time with me down here? C'mon," he winked, lowering the volume of his voice, "I'll make it worth your while,"

"Go to hell, you piece of shit," I growled, shoving my gun up to his face and setting the sandwich to rest on the chair behind me. Did he really think I was that easy? He was attractive but he was the enemy.  
The barrel of my firearm was pressed against his temple through the cell.

"Hey, is that... my gun?" the Savior asked, a sly grin creeping onto his face.

I glanced at it, and it quite possibly could've been. It was a nice piece. A silver Colt. I hadn't payed attention on grabbing my own pistol when I stopped at the armory, I guess.

"Y'know what? I was in so much of a hurry to get our little visit over with that I didn't notice which gun I even grabbed. So, this belongs to you?"

"Yeah," he bit his lip and concentrated on the object before him.

"Do I need to remind you I have it pointed at your skull? So get to the back of the wall and don't try anythin'. Now," I barked in a firm tone.  
He stood there for a moment and just looked back at me, then slowly stepped back until his back hit the concrete. I unlocked the door and set his food inside.

"Can I get a refill?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the empty water glass.  
I didn't respond, but snatched up the cup and locked the door again.  
His eyes were on me. I could feel them. Even as I turned on my heels to walk away, his voice caught my ears.

"You know, I didn't mean it like that by the way. What I said, I didn't try to offend you," the man said.  
I gazed back at him for a minute, but he was looking at the ground and tracing some part of it with his forefinger.

"However you meant it was offensive," I confessed, chuckling dryly.

"Oh. Sorry." was all he replied with.  
He half-apologized yesterday for choking me, but why did he even need to? If all he and his people wanted to do was kill us anyway, why would he even try to be polite at certain times? One moment, he's acting like the cocky jerk that the Saviors are, then the next, he's being quiet and... cute.

"Yeah," I mumbled, making my way around the corner to the small bathroom and twisting the faucet on to fill it up with water.  
All of a sudden, I heard someone make their way down the stairs and walk over to the cell where the Savior was being held. I could immediately tell from the click on the floor of the cowboy boots that it was Rick.  
There was the sound of metal moving around as he adjusted the position of the foldable chair and I could tell he sat down on it. There was a moment of silence before he spoke.

"That girl. The pretty one with the cute southern accent. What's her name?" I heard him ask Rick.  
_Why the hell did he wanna know that?_

"That's not important. C'mon. Now, can't we talk about this... Negan guy. Who is he, exactly?"

No sound.

"Glenn, this would go a hell of a lot easier if you would just talk. I won't have to use this," Rick said, apparently having a weapon in the room with him.

"You know I can't do that. It's not how things go. It's not how they ever go. I'm not telling you a damn thing and it's staying that way. You... you can do anything you want to me. I've been through the worst of it,"

Glenn. His name was Glenn.

"Believe me," my leader chuckled, "I'll find worse ways to-"

"You can't. Believe _me_ , Rick. Every part of my body's been broken or twisted or black and blue. Or beaten or shot or cut or grinded or torn or burned. So give it your best shot. I won't stop you," Glenn told the ex-sheriff.  
There was a sort of, edge, to his voice that set something off. That told you he meant every damn word he'd just said because he really had been through that.

"I'll be right back then. We'll um... talk, some more," Rick said.  
He stood and walked up and out from the basement, leaving only me to accompany the Savior.

He looked somewhat surprised when he saw that I was still there with his water he'd requested, like he thought I'd left.  
The cup was small and I was able to hand it to him through the bars. He thanked me under his breath and headed off to the corner of the area enclosed by metal boundaries.  
The Savior hadn't touched his food and set the water aside as well, letting his legs lay flat in front of him extended on the floor, his head of dark hair laid against the stone wall. I sensed he knew that he was getting tortured and from what I'd overheard him say only minutes before, I had a feeling he was all too familiar with beatings. I'd gotten tortured before, but not that kind of torture.

"You could just tell us what we wanna know, Glenn," I offered, trying to give him a way out.

"How'd you-?"

"Overheard it,"  
He nodded, barely, and went back to staring at the wall.  
"So...?"

"That's not the point. It always goes back to violence, anyways," he grumbled, blankly.  
It was a true statement, it made sense. No matter if he told us or not we'd have to kill him or exile him, then kill the rest of the Saviors.

"In the world we live in now? There's always violence. But the thing is, even when it gets hard, you gotta make it okay somehow. No matter what happens," I said.

He didn't answer, and I was almost completely out of the room before I stopped and turned back around.  
"My name's Maggie by the way. Maggie Greene,"

•••

My footsteps seemed heavier as I walked back to the house where I finished packing up for my run. Then I jogged outside to meet Abe, who was waiting by a black pickup truck. Black smoke poured from the exhaust, emitting into the summer air.

"You ready?" he asked. I glanced around me, at the trees across the street. For a minute, my stare went to the stairs that lead to that cell in the lower level of that house, a block away. I smiled.

"I'm ready,"

 


	6. strain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n:   
> im sorry if this chapter gets a little hard to follow throughout it, i was trying my best to put it all together nicely, though. thanks for reading + hopefully you enjoy.

 

 

_**mercy chapter six.** _

strain

 

_glenn rhee_

***

I never even saw it coming, but the more and more she talked, the farther and farther I fell. I found myself studying her body language. And just simply, her body. She had curved in all the right places, nice skin tone, and her face was flawless.

I was getting a crush on the girl who wanted me dead and it wasn't good. I was practically digging my own grave.

It was a habit I had, of being too cocky. Which, wasn't bad when I was being smart with the right people. I could talk back to Rick all I wanted. But with Maggie it hurt me to offend her. I didn't want her to hate me. But even I knew that was bullshit. That wasn't going to happen, not in my dreams. She was good and I was bad. They didn't mix. Maybe in Disney movies or something, but not in the apocalypse. People like me weren't supposed to have feelings for people like her because it never ended well and if I did then I was already dead.

I couldn't believe she'd heard me ask Rick for her name. My face got really red after she told me what it was, but she left so she couldn't see.  
I thought her name was really pretty.

I sat down and thought about this for a while until Rick came back inside with a wrench, and all I could think about then was how my blood was going to be all over my clothes and how whatever he was going to do to me was going to hurt really bad. What I said before to him, I wasn't lying. I'd been tortured so many times I lost count.

I liked her last name a lot. I think I used to have someone in my algebra class with that last name. Greene. Well, it wasn't uncommon, unlike Rhee.   
There's no way I'm letting her figure out mine.

"Hey," Rick said, waving the metal object around in the air in front of my face to take my attention away from where I'd been staring, "I'm gonna give you one last-"

"Save it, sheriff. You can go fuck yourself, 'cause I'm not telling you shit," I spat with grit on my words.   
He didn't say anything or react in any certain way, like I'd expected. Instead, the man just stood there, with a firm grip on the tool in his right hand. He was staring at me with something that seemed to be a glare, but it also seemed questioning.

"What _happened_ to you?"

I forced a small chuckle, and looked up to him, "you don't wanna know,"

"Glenn. All you have to do is just tell us-"

"No,"

"Back up. Turn around, press your stomach and your face against that wall. Don't try anything or I'll bust a cap in your skull, understand?" Rick said quietly, pulling out a revolver and setting down the wrench on the foldable chair behind him, then taking a pair of keys and unlocking the cell door.

I wasn't hesitating.  
With a burst of motivation I ignored his words and I threw myself towards him, who immediately kicked me where I wasn't expecting. His boot came in contact with my kneecap and I felt my leg give out from under me, with a large surge of sharp pain going through it. I cried out short and muffled.

"Damnit, don't make me shoot you! Don't make me, Glenn!" the leader shouted, pressing the barrel of his gun to the top of my head, from where I sat on the ground.

"Doesn't matter. You can go ahead, Rick."

  
•••

  
It was a simple fucking task and I screwed it up. Negan told me to go to the station and report back to him. Easy. And now I should've been planning something, I should've been getting ready to kill of them so I could just get out of that stupid cell.

But instead of finding some way to escape my captivity I just sat there and I found myself thinking about that girl. She was going to come back down and see my black eye and the blood dripping down my hairline. They'd probably stop giving me food, maybe they'd starve me to death. At this point I wouldn't ask them otherwise.

The sun was setting again, I could see by the tiny window at the other side of the room. The air was also beginning to grow colder and colder, so I wiped my own blood off my hands on my dirty jeans and pulled down my shirt sleeves. I was wearing mostly black, so the blood wasn't noticeable.   
Finally, I stood up to stretch my legs and grab my jacket, in hopes of gaining warmth.  
I felt a lump in my inside pocket and immediately reached in, frantically trying to see if I had any form of a weapon to use.   
What I pulled out from the clothing was exactly that. It was a lighter. They really must not even have checked me over that well, I thought.

I switched it open to make sure it worked, but quickly shoved it back into my pocket once I heard the creak of the door. I sat back down, wincing at the pain.

It was her. But she was with someone.

"Ain't no way -- Christ," the man muttered underneath his breath, staring at me.

It was that redneck. The one back from my old camp. Daryl. It was Daryl.   
From the look on his face I'd say that he remembered me, too.

"Is that really him?" Maggie asked quietly, watching him, who was fixed on me.

"Mhmgh," he grunted, walking closer to the cell.

"Daryl! Long time no see," I said, barely looking up at him.

"Chinaman... the hell's wrong with ya?!" Daryl asked in that rough voice of his.

" _Me?_ Look at you! Probably still haven't taken a shower," I scoffed with a frown, adding, "and I'm Korean, dumbass. How many times I gotta remind you that?"

"What're ya doin' with them? With... Negan!?" he yelled gruffly.

"I'm not the person I was back in Atlanta. I'm different," I growled, standing up and clenching my fists.   
Who was he, trying to come in and scold me for the person I turned out to be?

"You-!"

"I made my choices, you made yours. Now get the hell away from me before I reach through these bars snap your neck," I said through gritted teeth.

His dirty, scarred face went softer than it had been before. His eyes changed from being angry to being almost sympathetic. Daryl began to back up slowly, then turned around and stormed out of sight.

I sighed heavily and fell against the back of the wall, leaning on it and shutting my eyes tightly. I just needed to leave.

"God, I need to get out of this place," I mumbled to myself, "I need to go somewhere there aren't people expecting me to be something I'm not,"

"Should I go, then?" said a girl's voice from the doorway.  
Maggie.

"Sorry, ugh," I opened my eyes and looked over to where she stood in the shadows, "forgot you were still here. Don't mind me, I'm just talking to myself. How long've I been down here? A few days, maybe a week? And I'm already going insane,"

"We all go a little crazy sometimes," she shrugged, walking over to the wall opposite my cell.

"Yeah. What the hell do you want anyways, Greene?" I asked.

"You were with him? Before Negan?"

I shouldn't have even opened my mouth to Daryl. Or Rick. Then she wouldn't have even found out. She didn't need to know my backstory, nobody did. I was a Savior.   
On the other hand, it wasn't even important. None of it. How would it help them defeat Negan? It wouldn't. So I could tell her and it wouldn't make a difference.

"Yeah," I replied, shortly.

"What happened?"

"Got separated,"

"Then you found Negan?"

I nodded to her.

"And you messed up, and now you're here," Maggie said, like she knew what I was thinking.

"Exactly. I'm telling you, I have to leave. I could do something for you, if you would just unlock the door. Please," I looked at her, a look of more than just demand, but pleading.   
Maybe instead of threatening her, I could just ask.

"I can't, Glenn. You're dangerous. And dumb, since you think I'm stupid enough to just let ya go," she laughed.   
She had a beautiful laugh.

"You have to know what it feels like. To be stolen from the place where you're safe. To be taken and tortured," I said, standing to my feet and gripping the metal bars in front of me.

"I do. Believe me, I do," Maggie answered in a soft tone, moving closer to the cell.

"Then why can't you just open that door and let me go back. To my home, to safety,"

"People like you don't deserve safety. You threaten ours,"

She was right about the last part. But people like me did deserve the privilege of being safe. People that were _really_ like me. Glenn. _Me_. The real me. Not the fake me who was a Savior that followed orders. I did deserve safety.  
She didn't know. Nobody did.

"You don't know anything about me," I shook my head at her, swallowing hard.

"I don't," Maggie replied, raising her eyebrows,"that's just another reason why I can't let you go. You're unpredictable,"

I laughed, "unpredictable. That's a good way to put it,"

"Don't you agree?" she chuckled weakly, cracking a small smile.   
Beautiful.

"Sure, sure. Hey what happened to your lip, that's not still from what I did, is it?" I asked, curiously. There were still faint bruises on her neck, the ones I had left from before. But this was new. There was a gash in her bottom lip, even dried blood dripping from the wound.

"S'just a cut from fightin' off a walker,"

"You have walkers inside the walls?"

"'Course not. I went on a run. Anyway, what happened to you?" Maggie questioned, before laughing and running a hand over her face, "sorry, dumb question,"

"Not funny. It hurts," I croaked, "Rick hits hard,"

"Yeah, well I could give you a few painkillers,"

"Y'know, the point of being beaten is for me to feel pain. It's how I'm supposed to surrender,"

"Well that's not really the way it's going,"

"True,"

Maggie held her gaze on me as she leaned down and reached through to grab my glass, soon going around the corner to the sink in the next room.

"Here," she mumbled as she returned, handing me the cup and four small pills.

"Thank you," I said and gulped them down, "why are you being... nice?"

"Why not?" Maggie shrugged, slumping back against the wall outside my cell and facing me. She was playing with her hands, intertwining her fingers together self-consciously.

"Because that's not how it goes,"

"You're _supposed_ to surrender or get killed, right?. Neither of those things've happened yet. I'm supposed to hurt you or kill you. Haven't done that. So, maybe I'm trying somethin' different?" she explained.

"That kind of makes sense. You know, it's getting late, you should get some rest, Greene,"

"Mhm," she yawned, "so, 'night Glenn. And don't you tell Rick I gave you those. Or the next time I see ya I'll beat you senseless and trust me, you won't get anymore medicine for that,"

"Yeah, okay," I muttered through a laugh, resting my head against the bars as she left.

I let myself drown in my own thoughts about her, just thinking of everything we could do together if I ever got myself out of that damn cell.   
Suddenly I was reminded exactly what kind of reality I was living in when my hand fell to my side, brushing past the bulge in my pocket.   
The lighter.   
I pulled it out and flicked it open, igniting an orange flame. I observed it, with the blue base and the glowing hot heat radiating from it. It lit up the small space I inhabited, so I could see more around me with the light in the darkness.   
The darkness. Once again, I was alone. Surrounded by darkness.

I need to get out of here, and I need to use this lighter to do that.

**Author's Note:**

> hi, if you read the story. hope you liked it, it was a bit different than most glenn/maggie fics out there. i got inspired somewhere for this and i thought it was a cool idea so i wrote it. thanks for reading, if you enjoyed. leave comments and kudos if you want  <3


End file.
